I had just broken up with my not-so-serious boyfriend and I had a lot of time on my hands. My roommates had been going to weekly poker nights with that apartment of cute boys. On this particular night, one sweet roommate could not convince anyone to go with her. I had no interest in going: I didn't know these guys and I didn't feel like socializing. But with much pleading, I finally caved and agreed to go.
It was my first time playing poker and it was totally innocent fun. I don't remember much about learning how to play except that I had major beginner's luck. I was doing really well and it was thrilling. By the end of the night, everyone was out except two people: me and him... and I could read him like a book. I knew when he was bluffing when no one else did. It was unexpected and exciting. I ended up winning and went home realizing I was in trouble. I was officially crushing.
Unfortunately, that same sweet roommate had gone that night to see him and I was not about to step on any toes. So I kept that crush from absolutely everyone.